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In the days after
The crew is restless. For seven days we’ve been traveling under cloak, a wraith, hiding from conflict. My men clutch the hilts of their weapons, blood lust in their eyes. I have ripped them from what they know – many have followed me simply out of a feeling – a flame in their chests. They think that blood will make the fire burn brighter. They do not understand. This is my fault. Helmsman Kohthpugh challenged Ariennye in the mess. Though she still looks like one of us, everyone on board knows who, and what, she is. Kohthpugh took issue. If only she would have drawn blood, honor would have been satisfied. I know her to be a skilled and deadly warrior – perhaps it was out of respect for my command, perhaps her own sense of loyalty to this hollow crew – she would not cut him, and yet was too skilled to let him cut her. I cannot lie to myself – perhaps this was her Romulan blood, showing true, a secret pleasure in keeping the ignorant Klingon from honorable victory… or defeat. She was teaching them the first lesson of the Red Path, though I don’t think she, or any of the crew was yet ready to learn: violence is a tool, not a calling. To live our life by the blade, to embrace nothing but the hunt, the chase, the bite and the blood, makes us little more than Targ in the woods. If they had embraced the lesson; If Ariennye had slit the man’s throat;'' If'' Kohthpugh could have spilled even a drop of her green blood on the deck. I’m convinced they would have fought forever, locked like two legends, two moons circling the same bloody star… but we had entered into the Neutral Zone, and I knew we would soon face much more pressing conflict. Sometimes my upbringing betrays me. I was raised by priests, and thinkers. I forget that for my brothers and sisters, forever combat sounds like paradise. I would pay for this mistake. Entering into the Nequencia system, the crew is reminded that our seven days of skulking were, in their mind, at the whim of Ariennye. I imagine they think her some kind of Romulan witch, and I her enraptured thrall. As a youth I spent a shameful summer reading the works of Tal’Rigor; I consumed the ‘Vulcan Love Slave’ cycle, in its entirety… perhaps my imagination was running away with me. Ariennye may have some kind of grip on me, but she certainly has no interest in torturing me with pleasure. We were barely out of warp when the ship hailed us. As we were cloaked, the crew was unnerved. The ship had to be Romulan, but hear this brothers and sisters of the Empire… it was like nothing I’d ever seen. If a federation ship had been painted black as space, and crafted to inspire nightmares instead of hope – that was this vessel. It was called the Theseus, under the command of one Commander Mayek. He wished to speak to Ariennye; I wished to speak to him. I left the bridge to Martok – the old man was born to command a Bird of Prey, the fools that put him in an office squandered a true son of the Empire. On the Theseus, I learned that whatever I had read of Romulan hubris, whatever I imagined Ariennye had taught me… was but a shadow of the truth. They beamed me into a force field. Not a prison cell, but a three dimensional holding platform, keeping me from anything but the shallowest breath, unable to move. The Red Path is the way of enlightenment– there are many thoughts in my head that are unique to my culture. But to assume I was nothing but a beast – I, who came seeking a balance between our people…. To bind me like a rabid creature, like a frenzied Gorn – for the first time, I felt 10,000 years of blood, an entire history under my skin, and I gave in. Ariennye spoke some words to the man, pointed thoughts for pointed ears, but I did not listen. I gave in. For the second time, I saw the Red Path before me… and I stepped aside. I would say that my rage was fueled by Kahless... but it was nothing so pure. It was wrath, base and bestial, and it swept me up. In that moment, I would have ripped the ship apart with my hate… As it was, I simply ripped apart their force fields. If there was one lesson the Romulan learned from our encounter, may it be that their cold science crumples against the heat of a Klingon’s rage. Another lesson was learned however, a lesson of cruelty – Mayek, a Tal’Shiar agent and Ariennye’s handler for the entirety of her ten year mission – turned his back on her. He ordered an ‘alpha protocol’ which we were to learn is the immediate and hostile burning of an agent. In this case, it meant the death of Ariennye and myself, through the destruction of the ship we were both aboard''.'' As Mayek and his crew beamed away, Romulan fighters began to strafe the ship. Even after the fact, I do not understand it – perhaps I never will. An agent, an alliance, and an incredibly advanced star ship, all sacrificed on the alter of… what? Xenophobia? Did they not understand that my rage was my own? Or perhaps, they deemed my actions proof of Ariennye’s emotional compromise. And yet, we were not without hope. The Pa’Qul still hung in space over head, and despite her new found status as a leper, Ariennye still held Tal’Shiar clearances, more than enough to give us access to the ship’s lesser functions. We made our way to the ship’s bridge, as the hull was ripped into. I will not lie… the thought of taking the Theseus as a prize was thick in my chest. There may be something deep within the Klingon heart that makes us glory in the capture of an enemy vessel – perhaps one day I will purge this lust from my system, but for now, I could only rail at the stars as the craft was ripped apart under our feet. I reached out to the Pa’Qul, strangely silent – and found a ship on the edge of mutiny. My crew was at each other’s throats – apparently more than one had embraced the thought to leave me and Ariennye to our fates. Luckily, Martok held the crew together long enough for me to alert them to the enemy vessels in the area … Klingon battle lust is an interesting thing: once that hunger has entered the heart, it does not care what is eaten. Our forces were able to battle back against the fighters, destroying three, but the fourth… the fourth cost me my prize, the fourth singlehandedly destroyed the Theseus. No Romulan has ever stepped through the gates of Sto’vo’Kor, but this pilot deserves whatever blessing may come for him in the afterlife. On the bridge, as the fighter ripped around us, dodging the Pa’Qul’s disruptor fire, I met a new side of Ariennye – though she had control of the Theseus’ weapons, she did not fire. Though she’d been burned, abused and discarded, she still hesitated before killing one of her own people. Luckily for us, she still did her duty, and the noble pilot was sent to his airless grave, but still… no Klingon would hesitate to defend his own life, regardless of who was attacking. I’m not sure if I should be afraid of trusting Ariennye… or in awe of her. The Pa’Qul beamed us out even as the beautiful Theseus erupted around us. With tensions running hot on every deck, I reassumed control of the crew: I had the bridge, but not their respect. Something would have to be done. We received another distress call from the Federation outpost K7 – they continued to be under Klingon attack. My brother, already opening the first salvos of war. I prepared the crew for battle, ready to crush the usurper’s fleets – Ariennye stopped us. She argued that we had come here for a reason – to seek aid from the Romulan high council. Once, they had looked to ally themselves with the Empire, in exchange for world to call Home. Ariennye saw their attack on her as little more than a bloody nose – she did not fear their fleets, or the wrath of the Tal’ Shiar – she only thought of her people, and the almost holy quest she feels in her heart to right the wrongs of the Hobus Nova. My crew was ready to string her up. Faced with losing my ship or losing my… Romulan… I had no choice but to side with the crew. Ariennye however was not done – her logic proved inescapable. With no other large ships in the area, Mayak must have executed a long range teleport – and the only station in the area capable of executing such a feat would be the shipyards at Dederedex 3. One of the many organs of the Romulan diaspora, Dederedex 3 is where the harpies roost. A black eye in space, Dederedex 3 is a bedtime story for Klingon children – both a hole for cowards, and a den of snakes. She challenged the crew’s bravery. She challenged their honor. She accused them of being too scared to fly a single, poorly armed ship into the heart of hostile, Romulan space. From another, the crew would have laughed. But from her, the witch, the green blood… my crew had no choice but to prove her wrong. We sail for Dederedex, and almost certain death. It will be glorious. Ariennye T’Galathon. Ariennye of House Korrath. I do not know what destiny the Red Path has in store for me, but I feel it in my bones. She leads the way. Interior Communication: Recording/ Mess || Voice contact: Korrath/Azaram, Captain \\ begin playback>>>>>> >>>> You are all on this ship for a reason. You were not ordered. There was no command. There was a question – does your heart beat with the fire of Kahless? Each of you felt that fire. Each of you have that fire inside of you. A fire that I would see tended to Inferno. Yesterday, Kogthputh challenged Ariennye of my house. Because she is different, because she is not a true Klingon, you would have seen her dead on the floor. Inspired by the Clone, the false emperor, the deceiver, we have become just another animal, fit to claw and bite and hate. Show me that hate now. Until I walk from these doors, I am not captain of this ship. Kogthputh, I stopped you from shedding this woman’s blood – this sister of House Korrath. Come, take it from me now. //indistinct, multiple contacts {60+} : aggressive // If we do not like something, we crush it. If we want something, we take it. We are Klingon and it has always been our way. We hear the drums of war. //physical impact, hemoglobin detection, Korrath/Azaram, Captain// '' ''//negative contacts : shock // …This is what you wanted. Korrath Blood. Does it taste as sweet has you had hoped, Kogthpth? The blood of a man who lifts no weapon against you? To walk the Red Path, you don’t listen to the drums. You listen to the Fire. I take this blood as covenant – when you walk the path of Kahless, no wound will stop you, no pain will bring you to your knees. When your fire is a blaze, you will be legend. When it burns like a nova, they will see you from the halls of Sto’vo’kor, like Kahless himself! The Path before us is strange. Until this day, we have but walked it; with the treachery of House Khaegor, and the twisted leadership of the Deceiver, we must run. Our people have lost their way in the darkness. We must show them our light>>>>> <<<<< Interior Communication: End Recording|| I had turned my back on the man. Kahless’ blood, I had turned my back on a Klingon who wanted to kill me. Kogthputh could have taken my head – as it was, he punctured a lung. I did not look away. It was no trouble for me to disarm him – I am no braggart, but I know my bat’leth better than my own mother’s face. When I use it, it is like breathing – I do not miss. My blood dripping on the deck, I could see the flame stoked in my crew. My crew. '' In their eyes, I saw fear, rage… … Reverence. I do not remember what I said, but I knew I had them. In that moment, I knew the Red Path would stretch across the stars. I could see the False Emperor, dead at my feet. I smelt my brother’s blood on my hands. I felt vengeance for my father. I am no longer their captain; I am their priest. On the bridge, I preformed one last act before we strode deeper into Romulan space. Our ship had been called ''Pa’Qul, a strong name for an Imperial Bird of Prey, but we were no longer an Imperial ship. We were a ship of the Path. I gripped my wound, my hand coming away bloody. The crew followed me – slicing their skin. By our blood, we name her Quv Vo’Kahless. ''We walk the path, and she keeps us safe. Within hours, we entered the Dederedex system. I wasn’t sure what to expect of the Romulan Shipyards. I have seen smaller ''moons then these shipyards. The massive structure seemed to be servicing half the Romulan Armada; there were classic warbirds, but also large ships, black like the Theseus and even larger behemoths shaped like the long dead krag’icks of Qo’noS’ seas. Fully cloaked, we flew into their heart. We detected a long range transporter signature deep in the yards. We knew Mayek had been there – the question became, how to get close to him. Favoring boldness, we hailed the shipyards – I claimed to be speaking for the Empire, but Ariennye’s face is recognizable, even as a Klingon. I believe in that moment, she was the first in Romulan history to ever walk out of a burn, and return to the viper’s den. I imagine they were too shocked to turn us away. Before we beamed aboard, I shared blood with Martok. He is a good man, who knows what victory will cost. Kogthputh however, after everything, is still cold to me. I can but show him the path – he must walk it himself. Ariennye and I transported into the shipyards, ready for betrayal. We found ourselves greeted by a plump man, Administrator Ju’. He claimed to be a fan of Klingon culture, but it turned my stomach – the man collected Klingon trinkets like a child collects fancy stones. As we traveled to meet Mayek, we saw the ship designs closer – Ju’ boasted of their construction techniques, but I heard little after he let slip that the ship’s black coating made them virtually invisible against the blackness of space. It was called “blacklight”, and meant that they could drop cloak to engage while staying virtually undetectable. I had pictured the Romulan Star Empire to be a beaten thing, quivering on the brink of collapse. That couldn’t be further from the truth. They are angry, grief stricken… and in control of a force that could change the balance of power in the quadrant. Powerful allies… menacing foes. When we met Mayek, the man was shocked. More importantly, he was impressed – Ariennye put the future of her people before her own life. The Tal’Shiar are a brutal, cutthroat, deceitful order, but they know the value of loyalty. Mayek offered her the chance to send me away, as if I was her pet; Ariennye, to her credit, did no such thing. I’m sure she knew my presence swayed the room in her favor. Mayek offered her a choice: return to the Tal’Shiar, a full Subcommander in command of a Blacklight vessel, take charge of the “Homeland Reclamation” and be their face to the rest of the galaxy. Her first mission would be supporting the Romulan embassy to the Federation, as important matters were soon to be discussed. My crew and I would be sent on our way. OR. She could keep her rank, the burn lifted, but she would stay with us. Our ship would be upgraded, and the Romulans would support us in our war against Khaegor and the false one. Before they even begin to mobilize however, they would ask only one thing: a homeworld. It is all Ariennye has ever wanted. As for the Red Path… all men, even glorious enemies, deserve a home. We took the second offer. Within the hour, the Quv Vo’Kahless ''has been reequipped. Increased shields and engines. An upgraded cloak. Torpedoes capable of shattering an opponent. But as they were refitting her, I asked that she not be outfitted with the blacklight – though she was already bristling with sickly Romulan technology, she would always be a Klingon ship. I had her painted red. Once we were on board, the Romulans had one more surprise in store. To oversee the refitting and the functionality of the alien components, the greenbloods stationed a doctor/engineer aboard. An old woman, she’s small – I will learn her name later. However, they wanted something as proof that we would uphold our end of the bargain. Collateral. I gave them Martok. He understood. Besides, if my brother pushes into Romulan space, despite their armaments, they would need all the help they can get. With his absence, my ship lost its first officer. There is only one I could trust. When she walked onto the bridge, I did not know her face - some Romulan woman - but I knew her eyes. She still wore the uniform, and I still knew her heart: I named Ariennye Korrath my first officer. The crew did not flinch. Between us and anywhere lay K-7; the distress beacon long ignored, we traveled to the station, the last Federation outpost before Klingon space, to finally investigate. We were far too late. The station was ruined, though there were still life forms detected. Possibly federation citizens in need of aide; possibly my brother’s soldiers, plundering the federation’s wealth. No sooner had we run our scans then a ship dropped out of warp: the ''USS Miranda C, under the command of Captain… Fishface. If he had a true name, I do not recall it. The Qov Vo’ could best the Miranda, but not without heavy losses. Fishface accused us of attacking the station – apparently to fishheads all Klingon’s look alike. Federation arrogance. As Federation space was our next destination however, it wouldn’t do for us to have their blood on our hands – any chance of clearing our name was onboard the ruined station. Ariennye offered to go. She refused a support team – I could tell that the crew was impressed by her choice to die alone. They had no idea. We teleported her into space, outside an airlock. Sure enough, the entrance was guarded by two Klingon soldiers- my brother’s. Ariennye disengaged her magboots, and sailed through space – she slit both men’s throats like a breath of cruel wind. Soon however, she was inside, and we lost communication. The Miranda in the meantime had decided it had had enough of our admitted procrastination. I was hungry to test the ships new capabilities – my crew simply wanted to spill blood. The Quv Vo’Kahless ''is a beast of a vessel – if I had dared unleash her full capabilities, she would have ripped the Federation ship to pieces. I kept her moving, deflecting, but in the end was reduced to annihilating the ''Miranda’s weapons. Thank Kahless we weren’t forced to do more, as Ariennye was successful in her mission – rather than risk beaming her through K-7’s leaking radiation, she jumped from the station itself, sailing through a broken window – we snatched her out of space. Delivering the station’s data as proof, Captain Fishman was forced to admit that we weren’t the aggressors. With his ship wounded, he asked for our help in rescuing the wounded – we agreed, though we transported all wounded Klingons directly to the med bay, where they were promptly bound and rendered unconscious – to walk the Red Path, all you need is a Klingon heart, and a reason to take the first step. These men had already been failed by my brother – perhaps they will listen to me. The officers however we handed over for Federation justice – probably a firm talking to, but perhaps the Humans would surprise us. Now, we make our way for Earth. The center of humanity, with their hedonistic pleasure suites, and depravity based culture. Humanity who has turned its back on the stars. Humanity, who may be our only hope. Qapla’.